Mommin' It Up

For years, I've hidden behind my physical health and limitations, using them as reasons to not participate in physical activities, particularly ones that might draw attention to myself.  Such things are also completely against my introverted nature.  Nor do they really fit in with my fears of failure or looking ridiculous, or my poor self esteem. I've developed a myriad of excuses, while secretly yearning from the proverbial sidelines to be part of the fun, to be brave enough to be right in the middle of it.

For the sake of my children, and the example I need to set for them, I've been desperately trying to get myself out of those mindsets.  My kids need to see me taking risks, having fun, and breaking out of my comfort zones.  In terms of physical activities, yes, they will most likely result in a flare, but my kids need to see that some things are worth it, and holding back is not worth it.  I have allowed my fears and physical limitations and pain to rule my life, and it's time to put a stop to it.

And so, opportunity presented itself.....  In the form of our church's tug of war competition.

And, after consulting the other moms in our mom's group, I signed us up as one of the teams.

Now, I have to explain to you--the other teams have been duking it out for several years.  They are hardcore, and this is serious business.  There's even a trophy for the winning team.   A very large trophy.  And there's lots of trash talk between the teams.  As it was explained to me later, this is tug of WAR, not tug of FUN (it was also suggested my misunderstanding of this point was the reason we lost).

The other moms and I agreed--we needed to do this for our kids.  To have fun with it, even knowing we would most definitely lose, we still needed to do this. We got together and made plans.  Big plans.  Plans to completely 'mom up' the competition.

My husband even wrote a speech for us, a la Mel Gibson's Braveheart character:
"Moms of The Bridge!  I see a whole army of my God loving, breast feeding, co-sleeping, child-rearing, God loving compatriots here in defiance of dirty diapers and runny noses!  You've come to play a game of tug of war without children pulling at your leg, and play tug of war you will!  We are here to tell our children that they may take our sanity, but they will never take our lattes!"


We took the field in our team 'uniform'--handmade "super mom" shirts, aprons, oven mitts and Ergos with dolls in them.  I even put on face paint!  And the other teams took the field in back braces, cleats, gloves, strategies,  and very, very serious game faces.  Did I explain that the other teams are diehard competitors and take this very seriously?  I'm not kidding when I say the gentleman I was facing scared me just a little.  That's when I lost my nerve with the Braveheart speech, and just about everything else.  As our pregnant teammate offered cookies to the opposing team, the match began--and ended just as quickly.  Yes, we lost.  And we did so epically.  Our second match lasted a little longer, but we eventually lost to the children without even trying to lose to them.

But.  We.  Had.  Fun.

And it's an afternoon our children will not soon forget (I'm actually hoping it's something my own children tell their children about...).  Personally, I'm still riding the high of our friends who cheered us on, who laughed with us, and enjoyed our little show.  I'm still riding the high of putting myself out there without fear, and the satisfaction I felt in being part of the fun.  For me, this was about more than tug of war, and this was about more than fun.

Yes, I did this for my kids.  Yes, I did this for the fun.  But I also did it for myself.

Oh, and we start training for next year tomorrow.

Homework, the New Drinking Game

There are times I think raising my children will drive me to drink, and homework is one of those such times.  I'm just going to put this out there--I understand the importance of homework, but I.  HATE.  HOMEWORK.  For those of you who read yesterday's post, homework is one of those moments I will not miss.

I love the sweet little happy notes we get from teachers at the beginning of each school year: "Homework is not busy work!  It is an important part of reinforcing the daily work in the classroom!  It should not take anymore than 15 minutes to complete!"

And you know what?  I agree--for neurotypical kiddos.

But hello?  Have you met my children?  What planet do these teachers come from?  Fifteen minutes?  No.  Not in this house.  Try an hour, hour and a half.

An hour of me begging, pleading, sometimes crying, many times yelling.  JUST.  WRITE.  ONE.  WORD.  PLEASE.

It's stressful for all of us.  Not just for me, not just for the child I'm pleading and bargaining with, but also for the rest of the family.  By the time he gets home from school, his meds have worn off and he's done.  He's held his composure all day, maintained as much self control as he can, and home is where he can let loose.  After almost 7 hours of school, homework is not a priority for him.  Homework is not something I can multitask.  He needs my undivided attention--but so do my other children, dinner prep and anything else I need to be doing.

I have yet to meet a teacher with a practical approach to homework--and I say that as a former teacher, and a person with friends who are teachers.  I do not mean any disrespect to teachers.  For the record, I also have yet to meet a therapist with a practical approach to it.  I've tried everything; trampoline jumps, a break in between each sentence, silly approaches, conversation during the subject, taking outdoor breaks, doing it outside, reward systems, bribing systems (let's be honest--reward systems are bribing systems), pulling my hair out and drinking.  All of those only serve as further distractions.  None of them are solutions.

I'm not suggesting we stop homework.  In fact, I'm shocked at how ill-prepared many of our middle and high schoolers are for a college workload by the lack of homework they have currently.  I'm shocked that my elementary child frequently has more homework than my AP and Honors high schooler.

No, I'm not suggesting an end to homework.  But I might suggest a contribution to a w(h)ine fund.  

Encouragement

This post comes out of not only feeling the need to encourage others, but because I need encouragement, too.  Just a gentle remind to all of us that we will miss 'this' one day....

Some days it's hard--to mom, to adult, to do all the things.  I've been grumbly the past few mornings. When our days begin FULL THROTTLE at 5 am every morning, not by choice, but because that's just how it is in our sensory seeking world, when revamping nap time, when I've been up and down the stairs twenty times in 30 minutes because someone just learned how to climb them, when someone else routinely refuses to listen to direction, and adding this and that to our schedules takes some smoothing out--it can be hard.

I grumbled to my best friend on Saturday that for just one morning, I want someone else's normal.  I don't want mine.  It's too early for this nonsense.  I just want to sleep in.  I just want quiet.  I just want, want, want--something different.

And I have to stop myself--I do want THIS.  I prayed for THIS.  I begged for THIS.  And someday--I'm going to miss THIS.  Every time someone comments on the growth of one of my boys, I realize--I'm going to desperately miss these stages.  Each one of my boys is in a different, unique stage all his own right now.  None of them share their current stage with their brothers.  Each one is making strides and gains and growth all his own.  I won't get any of these moments back, and I won't get these same exact moments with the next child--his experience will be wholly his own, and different from his brothers'.  In all of this, I'm grateful for the moments that set me straight, and remind me to mother with a grateful heart.

And I will say this, too--it's okay to realize there are certain parts of some stages we won't miss.  And it's okay to admit there are entire stages we won't miss at all!  It's okay to want one child to grow a little faster than the other--and recognize that soon enough, they'll switch off and you'll want the other child to grow a little faster!  It's okay to enjoy some stages more than others, and miss others a bit more.  You're human, not Wonder Woman.  I know some days are just harder than others--and it feels like it might be weeks--and bedtime is just too far away.  I know it's hard to look at some moments and think that one day, you'll miss them.  And you know what?  That's okay too.  It's even okay to admit these things out loud!!!  And not feel ashamed!!

Hang in there, mamas.  We've got a tough job, but we've got a very worthy job.  And you, precious one, are totally rocking it!

Communication? What?

First, I should note that I am losing my hearing in my left ear.  Chances are good, even if you're standing next to me and talking, I can't hear what you're saying.  Imagine my family trying to talk to me from another room.  Now imagine there's a vacuum running, the music is on and the kids are running wild, and Shawn is trying to tell me something from another room.  Uh huh.  It's about like this:  

Shawn: "Wah wah, wah WAH!"

Me:  "Wow, thanks.  That's real nice of you."

Shawn:  "What?  What do you mean?"

Me:  "You called me a gorilla!"

Shawn:  "No I didn't!  I said I don't think I want to grill outside in this 100 degree heat!"

Me:  "Oh."

Shawn:  "What did you think I said?"

Me:  "I thought you called me a gorilla.  It sounded like you were telling Ezra he's got a gorilla for a mom!"

Shawn:  "Would you PLEASE see Dr Silva about your hearing?!?!?!"

Sigh.

Filling in the Holes

I had this blog completely written in my head last week.  However, as I sat down to write it, it hasn't flowed the way I expected it to.  I've had so many thoughts competing to get out of my head that putting this particular post to paper has challenged me. Sometimes I wish I could just kind of open my brain and you could read that instead!

I filled a lot of holes last weekend.  It was one of the few things I not only knew how to do, but could easily manage with a 24 pound toddler on my back while also helping supervise our other 4 eager, young missionaries!  Some of the holes I filled were physical nail holes. Others were more of the metaphorical, emotional and spiritual type, others still were physical needs. It seemed like such a small, insignificant job when I started out.  How could my putty job possibly compare to the carpentry work being done around me?  It was necessary work, though.  If I didn't get the holes covered, my team members coming along behind me couldn't sand, couldn't paint, couldn't finish the rest of the job.  If we didn't supply the necessities, these kids wouldn't have a good start to their school year.  If we didn't supply the hugs, support, prayer and encouraging words--well, everyone could use more of those!  It was a positive chain reaction, a flowing operation of goodness and important work.


Turns out, applying putty was also prayerful, thought-provoking work.  I wasn't expecting that.   I sort of expected the physical labor to be kind of mind-numbing and monotonous.  However, as I applied the putty to the holes in the drywall and trim, my thoughts turned to God, our Potter, and us, the clay. As I rolled the putty in my hands to warm it, to make it more malleable, as I rubbed it over the holes, making sure it was smooth, I heard my Father whisper, "This is what I do for you.  Daily, hourly, minute by minute."

Throughout life, we collect holes.  Life, the world--they can damage us.  We humans are also sinful creatures.  We have experiences that break us, and make us.  God is there with us, filling in those holes, molding us, shaping us. He rolls us in His hands, warming us, allowing our life experiences to make us more malleable, gently smoothing out our rough edges, gently smoothing over the holes the most damaging of experiences leave in us.  Sometimes, He relies on other humans to help fill our holes, to be His hands and feet.  If we don't complete our work, He can't complete His. What we do for our fellow brothers and sisters, we do for our Father.

If this work isn't finished, the outreach group we were helping can't do their work--they can't offer the necessities to the community they are loving on.  They can't fill in the holes of their community.  They can't fill in the holes in the hearts of the ones who needs mending, they can't fill in the holes in the souls who need hope.

I encourage you, as you encounter others throughout your day, to please work towards filling those holes.  A kind word, a pat on the shoulder, holding the door open, providing a meal, taking a friend out for coffee--you pick the way, but don't put it off.